Becca is yet another member that has returned to us, and was sorely missed in her absence. As much a part of the family as though she'd been here from the very beginning. She's always welcoming, always kind and supportive, and most importantly ready to offer all the magical feels-breaking plots you could ever ask for. So don't forget to show her your love next time you see her!

Welcome to ENDLESS DIAMOND SKY! We are an animation personified site set both in the animated world and present day San Francisco. A terrible darkness is spreading through the animated realm, driving everyone from their homes and into unknown territory that we know as reality. Now they find themselves at a crossroads: do they fight for their world or do they turn their back on it and make San Francisco their home? What will you choose?

setting san francisco, calif. 2018

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EDS is known to cause death by soul-crushing feels. Don't forget your feels bucket.

Can you battle through the darkness That is lying to your soul And find the strength to carry on Relinquishing control? In the trenches, in the rain It may seem endless and full of pain But you're a soldier born to fight Keep your composure And you will rise victorious

It had been a quiet night spent finalizing grades and delivering the unfortunate news to more than a few students that there was nothing to be done now if they weren't pleased with then. He didn't like to be a difficult professor, really. In fact, he had it on good authority that he was a fairly lenient one. Leniency, however, could only extend so far and he had a deadline just as he did. A fact he'd already explained in several emails from desperate students. With a sigh, Hektor sat back in his chair and rubbed at his temples. Another semester had come drawn to a close no differently than the last one had. He might as well have copy and pasted his end of term email he sent to all of his students for all that it deviated. Thank you for a great semester blah blah blah grades will be posted at blah. The feeling of stagnation was heavy, drawing his shoulders down in a way that mirrored the frown on his face. Was this really his life? The thought came unbidden, but not unfamiliar. Hektor gritted his teeth, banishing it before it could take hold. He had chosen this; there were enough regrets littered throughout his life and refused to let this decision be one of them.

He enjoyed the academic, such as it was, and he couldn't deny the singular thrill of gaining knowledge and sharing it. He wasn't necessarily born into the vocation but if the collar chafed it was only due to having once had a much longer leash. The muscles in his face hardened into a scowl, blue eyes dimming with a faraway look as he stared into the shadowed corners of his office. In the early years after the darkness, he had spent too much time trying to make sense of it all, too much time fighting for a cause that was hopeless as returning to Olympus had been. Zeus had given him false hope, he was certain of it now, colluding with Philoctetes to keep him wrapped up in a game in which he was only a pawn. As a small voice protested that perhaps Phil was just as much a victim as he was, Hektor's scowl deepened. They had both sought to use him for their own ends, it was simply deciding which was more worthy. Like a fool, he had done everything they had asked of him. He had fought monsters both terrible and mythic, ridded cities of scourges and seaports of serpents. Yet none of it had been enough.

What was the measure of a true hero, then? An ambiguous notion he had sought with obsequious fervor as a young idiot seeking glory and then with vicious avidity when it had all been ripped away. It had been the one question he had sought throughout his academic career, had written his doctoral thesis on the subject, and still was no closer to answering it than he had been that night at Olympieion when his father had spurned his efforts. His father. It had been a long time since he had thought of Zeus as such, preferring to keep him carefully situated as just another player in the great drama that had been his life back in Greece. It hurt less that way. Suddenly weary, Hektor closed his eyes, resting his head back against the padded desk chair. It had to have been the incumbent holiday weighing on him. Though he couldn't necessarily say it had been something he had ever celebrated before, the last eight or so years had driven home just how much he was alone. Combined with the recent wall he had hit in his research, it was no wonder these volatile thoughts roaring back to life.

Exhaustion lined his features, sinking into every muscle as he sat there, feelings and memories twisting in a dark whorl. He must have fallen asleep at some point, his psyche whispering to him in a sultry, feminine voice that he had done his best to block out for nigh on a decade. Confused, he rubbed the bleariness from his eyes to avail. The voice came again, calling to him. Without even glancing at the clock on his desk, he knew there would be nary a soul around the history building this time of night which only deepened his confusing. Hesitating, he stood and warily walked to the door and cracked it open. Sure enough, the long hallway was dark and abandoned even by the janitorial crew. His eyebrows drew together as he stood there, caught between calling out and simply reducing the voice to a figment. It laughed at him, the sound slithering around his heart and constricting like a python. Almost as if compelled to do so, he stepped out into the shaft of light pouring from his office as the voice called for him to come to her. Without really realizing it, he was walking down the hall and then he was running and then -- he was seized.

The magic of the portal inexplicably wrapped around him, tugging at clothes and hair, warping him in a way that made his stomach turn. He had always hated that part about crossing. It was akin to being broken down to fragments and put back together again, similar but different. It made no sense, his mind argued. He was nowhere near the portal, there was no way he could have crossed the bridge between the worlds from the university, even in his sleep. When the sensation ended and the magic stopped, he found himself in a half crouch. Nausea made his actions slow, deliberate as he stood and opened his eyes, shifting his weight to test the ground. It shifted beneath him and he was almost tempted to close his eyes again. It was sand, however, that had caused him to be unbalanced and not the aftermath of crossing. The magic could not be blamed either for the way his stomach dropped upon realizing where he was. How had he ended up in the animated world from his office without knowing it? It was inexplicable given everything he knew. The more pressing question, however, was the deep, earth-shaking rumble that echoed through the humid island air. With a gaze both wary and resigned, he raised them towards the dark peak in the distance and the flume of black smoke billowing from the top like some sort of malignant chimney.

An island was very much the last place Hektor wanted to be if the volcano his eyes were glued to decided to erupt.

There was talk of disasters in the animated world. Nature itself twisted by the darkness, and at first she hadn't believed it. Foolish, really. It felt like she'd only just been over there yesterday, and everything had seemed fine then. Her mind hadn't wanted to accept the idea that something could go so horribly wrong in such a short span of time. Well look who feels stupid now. Not only were there disasters spread out throughout various areas of the animated world, but the power behind them must have been strong enough to echo across whatever kept the two worlds separate. There might not have been blizzards or tsunamis raging across San Francisco, but the radio in her phone wouldn't stop broadcasting about one disaster after another. Sinkholes, electrical fires, and who knows what else causing damage and mayhem in all parts of the city. It was this last bit of information that finally swayed her decision to cross back over. Despite having only just returned from an extended trip on the other side, and having a class to teach in an hour. Mei could only sit on the floor of her apartment listening to the bleak announcements crackling across the speaker for so long.

If things are this bad here, how bad are they back home? She felt her thoughts going to the resistance camp, her friends. She'd left them all in one piece, but for how long?

Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed the travel bag she'd never gotten a chance to unpack and made a run for the portal. If she gave a thought to the danger for herself it didn't find purchase in her brain until she'd already crossed. She'd been hoping that the portal would drop her off outside of the resistance camp, but she should have known better. Hastily planned trips never ended well. The portal might have moved from one location to another every hour or so, but crossing blindly never ended well for anyone. Instead of the familiar collection of tents and makeshift huts in the distance she felt the unsteady shifting of sand beneath her feet. Of all the times she'd ever crossed she didn't think she'd ever come out on the island before, though she'd heard stories of others who'd been stranded there. Something she had no intention of letting happen to her-

Or...

The portal could be gone.

Shit

She'd turned on her heels to go back the way she'd come, but the archway was gone. Instead she was given a view of the rest of the island, and the angry mountain at its center. A sight that caused a chill to rattle up her spine as she could just barely make out flashes of red and orange in the billowing column of smoke that was pouring from it's summit.

Letting her eyes drift back down, and silently praying that somehow the archway was going to be there after all, she found someone else instead. Or rather he seemed to materialize out of nowhere. "Hey! Please tell me you can do whatever you just did again." Her hands tightened around the bag slung across her shoulder, head nodding up towards the mountain above them. "The portal just left, and I'm not sure that's going to wait for it to come back before it-" the ground beneath her feet shifted, something beneath the earth groaning like a monster was waking up somewhere below.

Can you battle through the darkness That is lying to your soul And find the strength to carry on Relinquishing control? In the trenches, in the rain It may seem endless and full of pain But you're a soldier born to fight Keep your composure And you will rise victorious

The moment the portal had deposited him on to the beach was one of those rare instances where a single minute seemed to last far longer than the span of sixty seconds. The sudden change was disorienting to say the least. Hektor half thought that when he closed his eyes that he might find himself back in the hall outside his office when he opened them again. The faint vibrations that continued to strengthen under his feet, however, assured him that this was likely not the case. He watched the sputtering of magma and smoke at the peak of the volcano in the distance with growing unease. Once upon a time, he would have been figuring out a way to stop the eruption from devouring the island about now. That was the who he used to be -- a hero who acted and reacted as the situation changed. Those were the days where he could afford to barrel forward, confident that he could take on what- or whoever came his way. Bolstered by success and the strength given to him by the gods, he'd run head first into dangerous situations without thought to himself. That wasn't entirely true, he supposed. It had all been with one, singular goal in mind: to prove himself a true hero and take his place among the gods.

A feat that was impossible now, even if he had retained that strength that differentiated him from all other heroes. He'd been arrogant enough to continue to fight even after he'd lost it but defeat after defeat had shown him just how useless he truly was without it. He might have all the right moves, training on a variety of weapons, and more than enough experience with monsters that had could only be imagined in nightmares but, without his strength, he had been forced to face the one truth he couldn't escape no matter how far he ran or how hard he pushed. He was only mortal. Now as he stood on the beach peering up at what was to be certain disaster in fairly short order, he swallowed hard against the knowledge that unless he thought of something -- and soon -- he would likely die here without anyone being the wiser. This wasn't the first time he had stood face to face with a fight in which his odds looked bleak. It was simply the first in which he had been drug unwillingly in front of it. What had drawn him to this place? The voice that had called to him, the moments leading up to before finding himself here, all of it was starting to become faded in his memory.

Except he wasn't alone, was he? He heard her before he saw her, despite how directly she was in his line of sight, the desperation as apparent in her demand as her fierceness. Blue eyes snapped from the angry volcano high above them to look her square in the face. "I'm sorry, I don't think--" his words were cut off by a furious thundering so ferocious it shook him to his bones. Even without looking, he could tell the volcano was growing impatient. "We don't have much time," he said, his mouth a straight line as the he spurred to action. Moving across the sand to where the dunes began to turn into jungle, he threw a look over his shoulder. "The way I see it, we have two options," He heaved a breath before he began stripping off the button down he still wore, a vestige of his life in San Francisco. A life he wouldn't have if this didn't work. He tossed it aside to be used later if his plan was successful. "We can try to find a high enough place to escape whatever that thing spews," he jerked his head toward the direction of the volcano.

"Or," He considered the branches of the sprawling mangrove above his head, eyes narrowing on one branch in particular. "We can try and get off this island and as far away as we can before it blows. For that, we're gonna need a boat, which I'm guessing you don't have in your pack." The statement was more matter-of-fact than sardonic but he spared her a pointed look at the bag she carried. Bending his knees, he took a breath and jumped. A thrill went through him as his hands wrapped around the smooth, silvery-gray limb and threw all of his weight into pulling it down with him. Two hundred plus pounds of muscle in addition to gravity and the sudden force seemed to be successful against the tree, the limb splitting away from the trunk with a satisfying crack. It didn't come away completely, his feet gradually reaching the ground again as he drug the branch down. This was going to take too long, the defeatist in him rose up again. While he might be strong enough still to pull down tree limbs, as much as he was struggling with just the one, getting enough to make even the most pitiful of rafts. He was breathing heavy when he turned back to her, running his hand through his hair. "You don't happen to have an ax in there, do you?"

Her eyes closed instinctively as the ground shifted and moved beneath her feet. Like she could somehow ignore the looming mountain that stood ready to burst above their heads. It was a naive hope to think that she could blink and be back home, or somewhere safe. What she wouldn't have given to be in her bed again with the smell of her father's tea wafting in from the kitchen, grandmama's voice a welcoming alarm clock. Even waking up to the sounds of the other soldiers of the imperial army would have been a welcome reprieve. Anything that didn't signal imminent death quite so strongly. Of course none of that helped. Opening her eyes and the mountain was still churning angrily away. It's rage making it hard for her mind to kick-start itself into motion. Suddenly the avalanche that had barely left her with her life didn't seem so bad. She'd have traded the snow pouring down a mountaintop for a raging inferno any day. Especially since here there was nowhere to run. She might have known next to nothing when it came to volcanoes, but just looking at the size of that mountain and the island they stood on, she had no doubts it would consume every inch of sandy beach like it was nothing.

The other person's voice dredged her out of her silent awe. Forcing her to come back into the situation, arms outstretched slightly to keep stable as the ground shuddered once more. At least one of them was on their game. She couldn't let herself give them up for dead just yet, as much as part of her wanted to accept the inevitable. "Right, you're right." Her head shook a second time, dislodging the last of the cobwebs. Lips pressing together as she lifted her gaze up towards the mountain one last time. A glance where her eyes narrowed and her chest puffed out just the slightest bit. She survived the Huns and thousands of tons of snow, she could survive this too. Hopefully.

The first option was skeptical enough, and she was glad they were on the same page as he ran off towards the trees. Since the highest point was the mountain itself and she was almost positive that was the absolute last place either of them wanted to be. Trudging forward after him, she watched as he tore the branch down, then shook her head at his question. "An Axe, no. But-" A faint smile flashed across her features. "This'll do just as nice I'm guessing." Her hand lifted reaching behind her back to unhook the scabbard she'd strapped there before leaving. She didn't make it a habit of crossing over without her father's sword except on very rare occasions and she was suddenly very glad she'd brought it with her this time. Drawing the sword free, she held it out to him. "Just, um, try not to break it. It's kind of a family heirloom." As for her bag, once the sword was taken she turned her focus on her bag. Sifting through the contents to see if she had anything else that might be helpful. What she wouldn't give for a bunch of rope right about now. "You look like you've got a better swing then me. Cut them down and I'll start dragging them towards the water and setting them together." Building a raft out of tree branches wasn't the craziest thing she'd ever thought of doing, so at least there was that. Though she couldn't help but wonder how well they'd fair out in the open ocean on a makeshift boat.

Can you battle through the darkness That is lying to your soul And find the strength to carry on Relinquishing control? In the trenches, in the rain It may seem endless and full of pain But you're a soldier born to fight Keep your composure And you will rise victorious

Hindsight was a funny thing. He didn’t quite remember when exactly he had decided to make the best of his situation and carve out a life for himself in the real world. In fact, there were likely a series of moments that had led up the decision so gradually that it almost seemed as if that had been his intention in the first place. Once he had, there had not been much of a reason (or motivation, for that matter) in keeping up with the same level of physical training from his time as a wanna-be hero. It was a mixture of habit and simple restlessness that had driven him to doing what little he did do. When all was said an done, a gym membership, and a weight training routine when he bothered, were paltry in comparison. Without his strength, it had been difficult to find motivation to do any sort of physical fitness at all let alone the many hours he had spent at it before. Frankly, it had seemed rather pointless and, like that, it had all slowly diminished over the years to a level somewhere just above average.

Life as an academic, too, had not improved matters much. While he did just enough to keep his muscles firm and maintain most of his shape, his endurance was…well, it was shit, honestly. What would have once been such a simple task in tearing down slim tree branches had left him panting after only one. Hektor pressed his lips together, holding back the chagrin he felt seeping through the lines in his face. Rolling his shoulders, he placed his balled fists on his hips as he contemplated the trouble he was going to be in should his question to his companion be fruitless. As it was, he couldn’t suppress the sigh of relief when she produced the sword. ”Thank the gods,” he muttered, for once not biting back the expression even as the muscles in his face relaxed into gratitude. Taking the sword from her hands, he nodded his agreement to handle the weapon with as much care as possible. Truth be told, there was a niggling fear that he would some how damage it even holding it gingerly as he was with one hand around the handle and the other supporting the blade.

With a breath, he tested the weight of it in his grip before letting it slowly swing down at his side. Another vibration shook the ground beneath his feet, renewing the violent foreboding the volcano induced. They were losing time, each precious second slipping away from them even as there plan was beginning to take shape. Wetting his lips, he nodded again. ”That’s a good idea. We only need enough to support our weight —“ a corner of his mouth ticked upwards in nervous humor, as he glanced down at his own significant bulk. The thought of being out on the ocean and trying to stay afloat was almost more nerve-wracking than the rumbling volcano in the distance but he shook his head as if he could shake the image away. ”Which I’m guessing is probably more than I think it is so we I better get started.” Loosing a breath, he began to turn back towards the tree line and paused. He was hesitant to do so but the threat of imminent danger made him turn back towards the woman.

Catching her arm to ensure he had her attention, his words came in a struggle. ”I’m usually an optimist but…well, uh, just in case, y’know, we die out here, I’d rather not be strangers.” His smile was tremulous at best, his eyes almost sad. ”My name is Hek-- Hercules.” For the first time in years, his real name felt right to say. He tried not to dwell on the implications on what that could mean but he knew it was telling of just how much his usual optimism had dwindled.

While they didn't exactly have time to spare, she couldn't exactly help trying to take inventory of the items in her bag. The simple brown satchel slung across her shoulders held only the most basic of supplies. She didn't want to bog herself down by over-packing so she'd raided a camping goods store and brought a handful of gadgets she figured would be useful if she found herself stranded in some unknown part of the animated world. Things to help her get water or start a fire, as well as a handful of medical supplies. The kind of stuff you found in first aide kits. Thinking on it now she supposed buying herself some rope would have been good practice, but there was nothing she could do about that lack of foresight now. While it was good practice for a soldier to be prepared for every contingency, the truth of the matter was that that was impossible. Especially in a place like this where the normal laws could so easily be thrown out the window. She could fill a book with survival methods and what to do in certain situations, but would she even come close to thinking she'd find herself stranded on a deserted island face to face with a volcano? Probably not.

She really hoped that her face, once she looked up from her bag, didn't show just how disappointed she was at its contents. Like she was somehow expecting to magicly draw out a last minute savior, or a boat. Anything more to offer than just a sword for a raft they might or might not have the time or resources to properly build. Especially when he mentioned only needed to gather enough to support their weight. She honestly couldn't help the glance that passed over him, as she nodded slowly. Her own frame was smaller in this world than it was on the other side of the portal. She'd built up muscle while training, but she'd never been very tall or wide and despite the muscle she had gained her body hadn't really changed much since she'd lived on her families farm. He on the other hand...looked like he probably weighed enough to require a good amount of branches. "Yeah, and I should start trying to figure out how we're going to keep them all together..." There was once last passing glance at her sword. An egging thought at the back of her mind about the possibility that she might never make it off this island alive.

As depressing as that thought was, it didn't really hold a candle to the one that followed. The sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach she couldn't help but feel every time she felt her mind getting drawn back home. Uncertain whether her family was alright, but unable to stop herself from dreading the worst. She'd done her best to be a part of every large refugee rescue, had searched through city after city, but there was still no sign or even a word about her family. Considering just how bad things were it was hard to hold out hope that her crippled father, aged grandmother, and mother had managed to find themselves to safety.

You'll get off this island, and you'll find them. It was a moment's flash of determination, the same determination that had seen her through so many hardships before. Causing her small shoulders to square up and a look of defiance to settle on her features as she reached for the already dropped branch. All set to start working, when his hand stopped her. Turning, she blinked at him, then found herself smiling. Despite the situation and the uneasy feeling she felt every time the earth beneath them shuddered and groaned. "I'd say it's a pleasure...but I think I'll save that for better circumstances. I'm Mulan." A small nod as she spoke her name, "For what it's worth. I think we're going to make it."
Her shoulders pulled back, stance straightening like she was daring the world to come at her. Perhaps it was nothing more than bravado, or just her attempt to make herself ( and him ) feel better, but it was all she had in that moment and she clung to it desperately. Body bending to get a better hold of the branch, she started dragging it towards the beach. "Now lets get back to work, so we can tell everyone how we beat a volcano with a raft."

Can you battle through the darkness That is lying to your soul And find the strength to carry on Relinquishing control? In the trenches, in the rain It may seem endless and full of pain But you're a soldier born to fight Keep your composure And you will rise victorious

In another, less dire, situation, Hercules might have found himself surprised at just how much he suddenly wanted to live. Perhaps later, when all was said and done, he would marvel at the stirring of determination lit up inside him like a flame to kindling. And that was another thing, too: his certainty that he would make it off the island. They both would. Solemn blue eyes looked at his companion in survival with an equal certainty. She wasn't necessarily the person he would have ever imagined himself working alongside in a life or death situation -- back when he still imagined such things. When he'd still thought being a hero was his highest aspiration, was the highest, anyone could have. Youth was as synonymous with folly as idealism, he'd thought. If there was anything he had learned in the time after the darkness had fallen, it was the resilience of the spirit. Even if he'd also been forced to swallow the reality of his own limitations, he was certain of that and it was that certainty that fed into his determination now.

Something akin to hope began to bloom in his chest. It had been so long since he'd felt anything of the sort, at least in regards to a situation like this, that he almost didn't recognize it for what it was. The conviction in it, however, had him straightening his shoulders. Better to carry the weight of responsibility that settled on them as evenly as the weight of the borrowed sword. He hadn't been lying when he'd called himself an optimist and part of him wondered if the resolve that had been rekindled out of necessity wasn't, in some part, due to that. There was no doubt that the deep reverberations of the rumbling volcano were making him antsy, or that the pyroclastic cloud darkening the sky painted the world a shade of doom even he couldn't entirely dispel. The idea of raft might be something of a long shot, a desperate grasp at the only straw they had available to him, and he didn't even want to consider if the volcano did erupt what would happen if the lava reached the water before they were far enough out but -- but it was the only shot they had.

And he'd better get started on his part if they were gonna stand any kind of chance.

With no more words left between them to say -- they were practically strangers, heartfelt goodbyes seemed entirely inappropriate given that fact, but he was glad to have at least exchanged names -- Hercules went back to the tree line. He had no idea how long he worked, the rumblings of the mountain in the distance driving him ever onward. He was careful with the sword, as she'd asked him to be, only using it to hack away the last stubborn strips of green bark. Back and forth, dragged heavy limbs to the beach, until the very earth seemed to shake. Frozen momentarily, he watched the violent red spire spew from the top of the volcano, splitting the ash-gray sky. Heart dropping, he gave up on the last tree he was working on and hurried towards where she was working. "This might be stating the obvious," he said somewhat breathlessly. "But it looks like we're out of time."